


Confession II: Buffy Night

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Comedy, Episode: s05e12 Bad Blood, Gen, Television Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:52:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5858683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An evening at home with Dana Scully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confession II: Buffy Night

Shh. Buffy’s on. It’s become my one sacred ritual of the week, settling down on the couch, a glass of whatever poor dumb thing wandered past me and caught my interest, feet up, phone unplugged. I officially cease to exist between eight and nine Tuesday nights.

Even Mulder knows better than to interrupt Buffy Night.

Do you know, I hate Sarah Michelle Gellar? She’s too thin and stringy for my taste. Geez, I know she’s the big thing, because of all those Kevin Williamson movies, but her hair in particular is lacking. I’m always glad when Buffy gets slapped around. She gives the girls of today an unrealistic self-image to live up to, no matter how take-charge she is. TV is so sorry- Buffy is probably the most empowered teenaged girl on tv, and that is just sick. We need better role models, you know?

Like I should be talking about being a role model when I’m a blood-sucking vampire with bad hair.

Hair, hair, don’t let’s talk about hair. I can’t go get mine cut, mirrors, me, we’re a no-go. I don’t need my ex-hairdresser, Wanda, gossiping about that Dana lady who no longer shows up in mirrors. So I’m growing it out, and I hate that! It’s styleless and graceless.

So, okay, Buffy, why do I like Buffy? I mean, beside the obvious vampire connection.

To be completely honest, I don’t know. Sarah Michelle Gellar annoys me, Angel is indeed a fine dish of a vampire, but I feel like a cradle robber every time I lick my lips over him. The show is campy, and I’ve never been a big fan of camp- well, before. I suppose the absurdity of the whole thing- and it is absurd, especially when Willow gets buggy-

I identify with Willow. That was me in high school, without the Net. Research girl.

The vampires on this show drive me insane. When Mulder wants to piss me off, he calls me Drusilla. And- well, my temper’s not what it used to be, because I rile so easily nowadays. But I’ve come up with a clever way to stop him from doing that. When he calls me Dru, I act like Dru- vaguely mad in a girly-girl sort of way. Irritates the hell out of him. He’s learning.

It’s a long slow process, though.

Tonight I wish I could see myself in the mirror. I decided to get a little edgier recently when going out, play into this vampire role a little. I went down and bought myself the coolest green velvet dress. Total and complete Goth, and, to top it off (and drive Mulder just a little crazier-) a black leather corset thing. I laced it up as tight as I could, and I am going to have fun tonight.

After Buffy’s over and we finish our nightly meals, of course.

Actually, I love that Angel’s gone evil. He’s awesome evil, those dark eyes glittering with obsession and soulless passion. I’m not afraid of him. Afraid that’s me- a demon playing in the body that was once Dana Katherine Scully’s, and all this feeding on scrawny animals is bullshit, as the soul of the woman in this body isn’t here. But I enjoy the spectacle, and ignore the reality. I wish I could just eat a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, but although a vampire can eat normal food, well, it just isn’t a pleasant experience anymore.

Trust me, you don’t want to know.

I look down at the dress, clinging and flowing in just the right places. Buffy’s fighting the vampires. Slayer, defender of the innocent against the monsters lurking under the bed- oh! This isn’t fair! I’m starting to cry! I want to be Buffy, not a vampire. I’m a mutant, a monster, and I don’t want to die with a stake through the chest! I’m not bad, god damn it!

Tick, tick, tick- a memento mori, vanitas. Life is ephemeral at best, and then you become dust.

Oh, she’s slain the vampires again. And Xander is making a dumb crack. Xander is a dumb crack. If I were Angel, he’d be the first person I chomped- if I chomped people, which I don’t, because to chomp a person would be wrong, and besides, we don’t actually chomp, that requires fangs, and I don’t fang, and- okay, I don’t chomp people, but if I did, and I were a vampire on Buffy, I would chomp Xander.

I have work for school, and so- I cannot hang just now-…

Gawd, I am Willow. Willow in a green velvet dress and black corset, and black high heels. Okay, finally found a bonus to being a vampire- heels don’t make my feet hurt any more, and I can run in them even better than I could before. I am stronger.

9 pm. Tap tap tap, and Mulder’s going to materialize, and we’ll be gone before the opening credits of Dawson’s Creek are over. Whether I’m a demon or not, I don’t deserve that sort of torture. I adjust my dress self-consciously. Wow. I’m looking stacked tonight. All sorts of ignorant young Goths are going to hit on me, and I’m going to have to control myself, and not nibble on their necks. I grin, and remember- oh yes. I took my cross off before I showered- I run over to the mantlepiece and put it on. Perfect effect- after all, vampires can’t stand crosses!

“Nice outfit, Scully,” Mulder says. Told you, he materializes. “So, are you ready to go and tempt the hand of Fate once again?”

“We have to eat first, or I’ll have to nibble on a real live human being,” I say pathetically.

“I knew you’d say that. I have a treat for you tonight-” he says, grabbing my arm as we go off into the night. A treat. The best treat would be the ability to see myself in the mirror again. But I don’t want to think about that. So I just won’t.

That doesn’t make me like Drusilla, does it?


End file.
